


A Cursed Prince

by rebellious_rabbit



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, I love Nikolai, Nikolai/Sturmhond POV, hes the bomb, hopefully, power training, the perfect Nikolina ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-07 10:08:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13432461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebellious_rabbit/pseuds/rebellious_rabbit
Summary: "The moment the Darkling’s hand made contact with his, a feeling like surety washed over Sturmhond’s entire being. Deep within him, something rose up, fighting to answer a call ringing out in his head."Nikolai Lantsov was never seen by the grisha examiners as a boy, and after years of pushing himself down, so as not to outshine Vasily by too much, he gets a rude surprise when the Darkling's fingers close around his wrist. As he trains, it becomes clear that there is much more to Nikolai Lantsov than meets the eye.





	1. The Beginning

It starts the day he goes to see her.

She’d been held captive on his ship for a week now, but he’d only seen her once. 

“Wake up.” he said, and when that didn’t work, he turned to Tolya. “Bring her out of it.”

When Sturmhond saw her eyes flutter open, he leaned closer, searching for any sign that what he’d heard was true- that she could summon light

When her gaze locked on him, he said her name.

He intended to have her demonstrate her powers. He told himself it was so he could ensure she’s worth rescuing, but another part of him was filled with curiosity. If this girl is what the Darkling says, she could change worlds.

The door opened. It’s Tamar “He’s coming.” she said.

Sturmhond cursed. It will have to wait. “Put her back down.” he ordered, and felt a twinge of guilt at the summoner’s weak protests.

Not two moments later, The Darkling strode into the room, his presence changing the very feel of the air.

“Sturmhond.” he said. “I thought I might find you here.”

“I do like to look at beautiful women.”

“Don’t insult my intelligence.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” a pause. A sarcastic bow. “Moi soverenyi.”

He could see the war on the Darkling’s face, Weighing the risks of killing the captain of a ship in the middle of the ocean.  
In the end, the man decided to let it go, cutting straight to the point.

“I did not hire you to sail to Ravka. This voyage will be different than we originally agreed.”

“Odd. My fat purse says otherwise.”

“We are hunting a sea beast. Starting tomorrow, your crew take orders from me.”

“No.” Sturmhond glanced behind him to where Tolya and Tamar stood. “They will listen to you regarding only navigation, and-” he smirked, “there’s a change-of-plans fee.”

To his surprise, the Darkling pulled out a bag of gold from the folds of his kefta and tossed it at Tolya. “I assume that is sufficient.”

When the privateer received a nod from the twins, he stuck out his hand to the Darkling to shake. “We have a deal.”

The moment the Darkling’s hand made contact with his, a feeling like surety washed over Sturmhond’s entire being. Deep within him, something rose up, fighting to answer a call ringing out in his head.

He jerked back with a start, shaking out his hand. Behind him, Tolya and Tamar tensed. The Darkling was staring at him, his expression somewhere between surprised and intrigued. Sturmhond stared back for a moment, his mind awhirl with possibilities. 

Abruptly, the Darkling turned and strode out of the room, his black kefta billowing in his wake.

All thoughts of awakening the sun-summoner were discarded.

Tamar’s reaction was immediate. “What was that?”

“I think he did something to me.” 

“What do you mean? He may be the Darkling, but his powers lie in shadows. We would have seen it if he’d used them.”

“I don’t know.” said Sturmhond, and he was truly at a loss for words. “I really don’t know.”

“What was it like?” she pushed

“It was like-” he paused for a moment, trying to find the words. Shrugging when they didn’t come, he said, “It was like he made me hungry.”

Tamar exchanged a meaningful look with Tolya.

“What?” Sturmhond asked

“I just don’t understand how you can be so brilliant and so daft at the same time.” said Tamar, “but in case you’ve forgotten, the Darkling is an amplifier... just like the grisha examiners.” 

She let the last words hang in the air, and Sturmhond slowly dared to accept the possibility of it. He’d never been tested as a child because of his mother’s irrational fear that someone would discover his true parentage, but… there was no way he was grisha. Wouldn’t he have known? 

Tolya, who’d been silent up until now, spoke up. “Try to use it.”

Sturmhond did have to ask what he meant. The small science. 

He closed his eyes and reached within himself, searching for that fire that had risen before. After several long seconds, he felt the tiniest tug, and grabbed hold of it. 

Nothing happened. His fingertips pulsed like the power was waiting, just beneath the skin, but nothing came out.

He tried several more times before slumping into a nearby chair. This was all crazy. There was no way.

In the corner of the room, Tamar and Tolya were talking quietly with each other. Sturmhond watched them with mild interest as they proposed and shot down ideas in  
rapidfire. 

Finally, Tamar turned around to face him.

“We need to get you an amplifier.”

Sturmhond only shrugged. “Good thing we’re hunting one right now.”

\---

A crack split the air as the Darkling’s cut sliced through one of Sturmhond’s crew. A wave of darkness went spilling over the deck toward where Alina stood with the boy- Mal was his name- and Tolya. 

Sturmhond drew his pistol and aimed it at the Darkling’s heart. He saw him tense. Without taking his eyes off Alina, the Darkling spoke.

“You’ll never know what you are if you shoot me.”

“I am grisha.”

“Fool. You grasp the frayed edges of what you are. Without me, you’ll never understand, and you’ll never reach your potential.”

Sturmhond’s face twitched. He squeezed the trigger.

The Darkling clutched at his arm.

He could’ve shot a second time, but Sturmhond's aim never failed. 

He turned and ran.

\---

The sounds of pistols cocking and swords unsheathing filled the air.

The boy had had the gall to point a pistol at him. How cute.

“Easy Oretsev, I’ve gone to a lot of trouble and expense to put you on my ship. Be a shame to fill you full of holes now.”

Sturmhond pulled a knife from his belt and held it out to Alina. “This is for the beast.”

To Tamar he called, “Haul it in.”

The crew hauled the sea whip aboard. It landed on the deck with a wet thud, still thrashing about in the net, its scales catching the light this way and that, reflecting  
rainbows.

He turned to Alina again, still holding the knife out. “As I understand it, you have to be the one.”

She just stared.

“Go on,” he said, urgency filling his voice. “We need to get moving. The Darkling’s ship is disabled, but it won’t stay that way.”

She made no move to take the blade.

Sturmhond leaned in and lowered his voice. “I just lost thirteen good men. Don’t tell me it was all for nothing.” then, as an afterthought, “Either way, it won’t survive.”

For a moment, he was scared- truly scared- that it HAD all been for nothing. He’d never gotten a chance to make her demonstrate her powers, and had only the  
Darkling’s word to go on that she could summon light. For all he knew, she could be nothing but the Darkling’s lowly grisha whore.

Alina took the knife.

Mal came up beside Alina and murmured something encouraging. He replaced the knife in her hand with a harpoon, and as Sturmhond watched, Mal helped her plunge it through the sea whip’s body.

Sturmhond felt a pang of regret. He knew the stories. The sea whip, Rusalye, was said to be a cursed prince. At the end of the day, wasn’t that what he himself was too?

Tolya and Tamar took hold of the discarded knife, and used it to pry the golden-edged scales loose from the creature’s forehead. 

Tolya presented Alina with seven perfect scales to be used as an amplifier. 

No one noticed that the sea whip was missing fourteen.


	2. Chapter 2

Sturmhond watched intently as Veronika, his best fabricator, fashioned the fetter of scales around Alina’s wrist. It was slow going, but it was very delicate work. 

When the final scale was placed, Alina told them to stand back. 

As she lit up the night sky, Sturmhond felt the urge to shield his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away. 

With the power of this one girl, Ravka would rise again.

\---

That night, after Sturmhond roused his crew and ordered them to set sail at full-speed toward Ravka, he instructed Tolya to bring Veronika to his office, and Tamar to retrieve the scales. 

He had no idea where she’d hidden them, just that she had them. To his surprise, she reached into her tunic and produced them from regions that many sailors had been beaten for attempting to touch. All the while, she stared at him with a look that dared him to comment.

For once, the great Captain Sturmhond was silent. 

Tolya arrived a few minutes later with Veronika in tow, who was looking even more tired now than she had just an hour ago. Her braids had come slightly undone, and she had donned a furry hat. 

“What can I-” she took a deep yawn, “do for you captain?”

“I require your skills.”

She opened her mouth to ask, or maybe yawn again, but Tamar presented her with the scales before she could. A look of confusion took over Veronika’s face. 

“Is this payment or something? You know you don’t need to-”

“I need you to make me an anklet amplifier.”

Her brow furrowed. “But Captain, the amplifier only works for whomever slays the creature.”

“True enough, but I made its death possible by catching it, and even if Alina hadn’t finished it off, it would’ve died at my hand.” he shrugged. “It should work at least in some respect, and if not,” he chuckled, “well then I’ll have a very pretty anklet.”

Veronika looked from face to face around the room, as if asking if he was serious, before stretching out a hand to Tamar for the first two scales. 

Sturmhond pulled up the leg of his pants, brushing his coat aside, and pulled off his boot. He set his foot on a small stool, and Veronika wordlessly knelt down and went to work fusing the scales around him.

When it was done, Sturmhond told her to take one item, any item at all, that she liked from his office as payment in return for both her work and her discretion. Wisely, the girl took the biggest bag of gold in sight and departed.

Tolya and Tamar waited around expectantly, eager to see what his powers were, but he gently dismissed them, saying he wanted to experiment on his own first and didn’t want to accidentally hurt one of them.

They sketched a quick bow each, and turned to leave. As they walked up the stairs back to the deck, Sturmhond caught a snip of their talk.

“-Did you really hide the scales in your bra?” it was Tolya’s incredulous voice.

“Of course.” said Tamar, “It was the one place, I knew I would die before letting any man touch.”

“What about your-”

“First of all, captain would have killed me, second, NOT practical, and third, EWWW. Really?”

When the door shut behind them, Sturmhond gave a small laugh. The seas were never dull when the twins were around.

Blocking out all of his other thoughts, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He wasn’t ready for this, and he knew it. Sturmhond had never been the type to be unprepared, but right here, right now? He felt like he was about to create a shadow fold within himself.

Closing his eyes and settling back into a chair, he reached deep within, grabbing for anything that seemed remotely wild. He clenched his jaw when he finally found the tendril of power that lurked there. It seemed the same as all of the other times he’d tried to summon it, but this time, with the help of the amplifier, it responded much more readily. The power built up within him until he thought his hands would explode. Then, all at once, they did- into power.

Across the room, the fire leapt from the candles on the walls, lighting his desk aflame. It took a moment to register. He watched as the disheveled documents and carefully drawn plans turned to ash and marveled in disbelief that he was the cause. 

Then he registered that his office was burning.

He sprang to his feet, looking around wildly for anything he could use to douse the fire. The only liquid in sight was wine… and that was most definitely a bad idea. 

He held up his hands, trying in vain to control the flame. That’s when he felt the pulsing again. Curious, and without an abundance of other options, he let go, and suddenly, the portholes in the walls of his office burst open, pushed by streams of seawater, pouring in.

Tamar and Tolya must have heard the commotion, for he could tell they were right outside the door. He could hear their worried discussions about whether to intervene.

Finally, when his office was knee-deep in water, they forced the door open.Their apologies died on their lips when they took in the sight of the room, and Tolya immediately hurried off to find a bucket and towels

Tamar crossed her arms and stared at him. “So you’re a tidemaker?” 

“I think… I think so, but I also controlled the fire.”

“You think?”

“Well I caused a fire, then flooded the cabin in my attempt to put it out, yes.” Sturmhond wrung out a lock of his ruddy hair. “I think I’m an inferni too.”

“That’s impossible, let me see.”

Sturmhond had to physically bite his tongue to stop himself from his famous retort.

“Well now, if I had enough control of my powers to show you, I probably wouldn’t have done this.” He gestured around the cabin. “I mean, yes I’ve been wanting to redecorate for awhile, but even this is going too far.”

Tamar smiled at him as Tolya returned with the bucket. “We’ll work on it.”

\---

The light went out. The volcra’s cries were close. Too close. A shriek. One of the squallers was down. 

Sturmhond took a wild glance around his ship. They should never have entered the fold. Saints, he had been foolish. Everything had been going so well.

The Hummingbird was listing to one side now.

“Tamar, help Kovu!” he called, though he knew she was already on her way over to the squaller. He just needed to do something, anything, to feel like he was in control.

Sturmhond spotted her. The sun-summoner was curled up in a ball on the deck of the ship not fifteen feet away. Mal was shouting her name, but she just kept shaking.

Watching her, a fleeting thought crossed his mind, one of utter disbelief, “She’s really going to let us die.”

It had been years since Sturmhond had actually contemplated the possibility of his immediate death. Sure, he’d been close, even prided himself on escaping death’s clutches, but he’d always known his crew would be there to catch him if he fell. Now… it might really be over, and he didn’t know what to do.

He cursed loudly. One silly mistake, one stupid whim to hunt volcra, and he might very well die for it. All of his hard work, all of his carefully crafted plans, all for nothing. Vasily would be king, or maybe the Darkling, and Ravka would be in ruins.

Another volcra shriek drove closer. Sturmhond could see the edge of the fold, but he knew they wouldn’t make it.

The ship listed dangerously again. Across the deck, the other squaller was sweating hard from effort, but it wasn’t enough. Sturmhond shut his eyes, then opened them again. He could see the vague outline of the lake now, a few hundred feet away. 

Impossible, he thought, then smirked to himself and gritted his teeth. Improbable.

All at once, the light returned. Sturmhond blinked rapidly, trying to bring the world back into focus, and threw his gaze around the deck. Alina was still in her crumpled position, but she had a look somewhere between determined and frantic etched across her face. Kovu still lay sprawled on the deck, his arm barely attached.

Sturmhond felt the light flicker. Over his shoulder he shouted to Mal, “Is she injured?” 

“Just get us out of here!”

“Oh is THAT what I should be trying to do?” 

Then the fold was gone, nothing but a dark wall receding behind them. The ship was skimming the treetops now, descending at a terrifying speed.

Sturmhond gripped the wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. “Everyone get low and hold on tight!” he shouted

All but one person took shelter below decks. The only one who remained was the squaller, her arms trembling with effort, tears of pain running down her face. Still, she fought to keep control.

The lake wasn’t too far away now, but they were too close to the ground to land in it as planned. It would be close.

No longer any point in holding the wheel, Sturmhond released his grip on it. For a moment, he stood on the deck, torn. Should he take shelter in the cockpit or stand his ground? He shook his head and his resolve hardened. As long as the squaller still stood, the captain would go down with his ship.

The ground rose up to meet the ship too quickly. 

Sturmhond threw up his arms to brace himself for the impact, but none ever came. That sense of power that came with desperation welled up inside of him until it exploded into… wind? 

What in the name of saints?

Instead of splintering on the forest floor, the ship skidded along the air just a few feet off the ground, and in that instant, Sturmhond caught the wide-eyed stare of the other squaller. Then the ship tilted one final time, and they both dove for the nearest shelter. 

In the cockpit with Mal and Alina, Sturmhond just had time to say, “This is cozy.” before they struck land with a bone-shattering jolt.


End file.
